Godot's new assistant
by Morality Sucks
Summary: Godot hires on a quirky college student assistant on an impulsive whim. Takes place somewhere in the middle of Trials and Tribulations. Please R/R
1. Chapter 1:Help for Hire

Godot popped his neck absently, keeping his eyes on the case file he held in one hand and taking a sip of the bitter coffee he held in the other. He was currently reclined on the soft, leather sofa located in the prosecutors' lounge, one expensive, Italian clad foot resting on the mahogany coffee table in front of him, the other on the carpeted floor.

He smiled in anticipation of the upcoming trial. It started in a little over an hour and he figured he pretty much had it in the bag, so twenty minutes in court tops and he'd get the appropriate guilty verdict. So an hour, twenty minutes on the outside and Godot would be done for the day. Excellent. He would be free to….He frowned. Be free to do what, exactly? Pace around his empty, cavernous house? He pushed that thought from his mind and focused once again on the case at hand.

The defendant was, without a doubt, guilty. And as much as it pained Godot to have to take cases other than the ones rivaling that _pathetic_ attorney Trite, it was a necessity. And as long as that was the case, he had to admit that being able to properly convict someone he knew to be guilty was a nice change from his former career as a defense attorney. Back then, it had been his job to get everyone an acquittal. And there had been many nights were he had lain awake in be, not because of his excessive intake of caffeine, but because he had single handedly allowed a killer to walk free on the streets. He didn't have that problem now that he was a prosecutor. He lay awake for a completely different reason now.

The defendant of the current case was, of course, accused of murder. He was a lieutenant on the police force and his ex wife woke up to find her current husband lying dead in the kitchen. The crime scene was impeccably clean; anything the forensics team would normally have picked up on was glaringly absent. The scene had been cleaned by a professional, someone who knew exactly what the cops would look for. Also, there had been no forced entry into the house, and the wife said that the locks had not been changed since her previous marriage, which would mean that the defendant would still be in possession of a key.

Plus, Godot had dug up an eye witness who claimed to have seen 'a young police officer' entering and leaving the house. It was a surprise witness that the woefully under prepared defense had no idea about.

Godot's smile resurfaced. He did love winning trials. He tossed back the rest of his coffee. Damn! It always went to fast. He really should look into getting a bigger mug. He placed his file on the table and stood up, stretching. He walked over to the counter with the brewing coffee pot, crossing the room quickly with his long strides.

Godot began pouring his coffee, watching the dark brown liquid spill into the mug. He glanced over his shoulder as the door slammed open and an agitated Payne stomped in.

What appeared to be a college student followed behind him, looking desperate. She had a notebook cradled in one arm, a book bag slung over her shoulder and a mechanical pencil tucked behind one ear.

Godot's first thought was how surprised he was at old, crotchety Payne dragging a good looking college girl around with him, but when she spoke in a tight, controlled voice with an angry expression, he amended is initial impression, turning back with a smirk.

"Mr. Payne, you are being completely ridiculously! My request is not so outrageous, and I really need this! I beg you to reconsider." The girl said through clenched teeth.

"Young lady, I said no! It is more than improper for a lawyer of my standing to have so young of a female assistant." Payne responded in his shrill, unpleasant voice. He stomped over to the large file cabinet in the corner, slamming one of the drawers open and shoving the files he was carrying in.

"It is not! The college has a program for law students to help them become part time assistants. My professor insists we get this job!"

"Well your professor obviously is not fully aware of what is and what is _not_ appropriate in the work place! However…" The old prosecutor took a moment to look her up and down, smiling suggestively. "If you wish to meet me outside the confines of _my_ workplace, I'm sure something can be arranged." He waggled his eyebrows.

Godot coughed in his attempt to cover his snort of laughter. He glanced over his shoulder again, in time to see the girl blush and step back. At least, he assumed she was blushing. To him, it appeared as if her cheeks were going slightly paler.

"Well, I, uh, that is to say…" She stuttered her response, trailing off.

Godot found her reaction kind of odd. His impression of her thus far would have led him to think that her response to an unwanted date request would be confident and even violent. But she'd suddenly turned completely shy.

"Hmm, yes, well that is the only offer I'm, uh, offering! Perhaps you should try one of the other prosecutors." Payne said, turning to the door. "I'm sure one of them is immoral enough to take you in. If you change your mind about our date, you know full well were to find me." And with that, he left.

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Well maybe you should tell me the address, just to make sure I don't send the pipe bomb to the wrong person." She muttered under her breath, sitting down heavily on one of the sofas.

"Ha…!" Godot sat on the opposite couch, picking his case files back up. "If you're sending old Payne a surprise package, be sure to put my name on it as well."

The girl glanced up at him quickly, obviously not realizing before that she had company in the room. After the moment of surprise she recovered and laughed good naturedly. "I don't really mean it, of course. But he really didn't need to be such and old frump about the assistant thing though."

"Maybe you needed to be more persistent. Adopt a more 'go and get 'em' attitude." Godot suggested with a smile.

"Persistent?" The girl said, running her hand through her long, blonde hair and sighing. "I chased that old bat through the entire complex! The only reason I stopped in here is because this is where I started harassing him."

Godot chuckled. "By persistent, I meant accepting his wonderful offer for a date." Godot saw the blush return. He turned his head to the side and smiled at her crookedly. "Charm the pants off him as it were."

She covered her mouth with her hand and laughed. "For the sake of my sanity and my gag reflex, we're going to pretend that Winston Payne's pants _never _come off. They're surgically attached."

"Ha…!" Godot laughed again.

The girl smiled in response to his booming laugh, but then she frowned again. "Damn! I still need to find someone willing to take me under. I guess I can just wait until tomorrow and try Payne again."

Godot propped his feet up on the table, shaking his head as he did so. "Nothing tastes worse than coffee you let sit over night and then attempt to warm up the next morning. No, best course of action is to dump it out, clean the pot and start fresh. Find yourself a different lawyer to badger." As he said this, he realized full well the direction this little encounter could turn and he quickly balanced the pros and cons of taking on an assistant. She didn't seem to much the type that would really get in his way, and it would be nice to have someone around to send for files and bounce ideas off of. Besides, he kind of liked this quick, easily blushing college girl.

The girl stared grumpily at the floor. "There aren't any prosecutors _left_. At least, not any I'd be willing to work under."

"Hmm, Fransiska VonKarma?"

"Oh please! Like it wouldn't be enough of a self esteem drain to have to work for someone five years younger than me who's already won like twenty cases, but I think the first time she tried to whip me with that crop of hers, I'd be forced to shove it down her pretty German throat. And I really don't think that would be good boss, employee relationship…Oh; please don't tell her I said that!"

Godot grinned, his teeth dazzlingly white. "Now there's something I'd pay money to see! How about the head prosecutor, Edgeworth?"

"I tried to talk to him a little bit, but he gives me the creeps. Don't get me wrong, he's extremely good looking and a real genius, but you try and make a joke around that guy and he gives you this _look_." She shuddered. "Not to mention that outfit of his looks like he pulled it off of a grocery store romance novel cover. And it's more pink than I'd be caught dead wearing."

Once again, Godot laughed at the girl's wit. He found he was actually enjoying their banter. "Well, it looks like you've run out of options. Would you like me to give you old Payne's home phone number so you can call about that date?"

She gave him a hard look. "Ha ha ha. That's really funny. Hmm, well I haven't run completely out of options. There's still that new guy. Huh. What's his name again?"

Godot concealed his smirk with his coffee mug. "Hmm, can't say I know who you're talking about. Can you describe him for me?"

She screwed her face up in thought. "Um, I've never seen him myself. He's supposed to be a real wiz in court though. Well, when he's not up against Wright. But that's true for every prosecutor here, I suppose."

"Well now, that's interesting." Godot rumbled in his deep voice. "Any physical description I can go on?"

She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip in thought, trying to recall the name she was looking for. "Well, my friend has been to a few of his trials, and for the explicit reason of watching him, actually. She described him as nothing short of gorgeous, but you never know with Katie."

"Hmm, no, I suppose you never _do_ know with Katie." Godot was enjoying himself more than he should possibly, but that was okay. He rarely got to have any fun.

She continued. "Let's see. Tall, really tan. White hair, I think she said? Apparently he drinks a _lot_ of coffee."

Godot relaxed on the couch, waiting for realization to hit her.

"Yeah, apparently perfect in everyway apart from the thing…on his…face…" The girl trailed off as she raised her eyes to the silver, hulking visor covering the top half of Godot's face. He had his chin resting in one hand and was tapping the visor slowly with his index finger, smiling at her. She gulped. "Oh good god, you're him. And now I've just completely talked myself into a corner, not only calling you gorgeous but pointing out your obvious physical imperfections. Wow, I am really on a roll today. Any dead relatives you were particularly close to that I could bring up and speak ill of?" she was blushing so hard now that she looked in danger of passing out. "I am so sorry if I've offended you. It certainly wasn't my intention. I'm really sorry."

Godot laughed vociferously at her dismayed expression. "No offense taken, I assure you. In fact, I fail to see how one _could_ take offense at a beautiful young lady calling them gorgeous."

The girl fought back her quick blush and shot Godot and easy smile. "I'm sure Katie will be delighted to hear that you think she's beautiful."

"Ha…! You got me there." Godot said, shooting her a devilish smile of his own before throwing back the rest of his coffee.

"So, I don't suppose you remember that new prosecutor's name, do you? You know the incredibly skilled, tall, dark and handsome coffee addict?" She said lightly.

He had that crooked grin again. "Oh, yes. Now that you mention it, I do know that fellow. Tall, dark and handsome he definitely is. I'll tell you, if I didn't go for the ladies 100, I might be tempted by him."

She covered her mouth to laugh again, her eyes sparkling.

Godot stood up and walked over to the other couch, offering her his hand. "I'm prosecutor Godot." He turned his head to the side. "Upon meeting a beautiful woman, always ask her name and profession. That's one of my rules! So, lovely making your acquaintance miss--?"

"Ramona Karsten." She told him. She placed her hand in his, having every intention of shaking it, but instead she watched in surprise as he bowed his head over her hand and delicately brushed his lips over it. A few locks of his shockingly white hair fell forward to overlap his silver visor. She was completely struck dumb by this gentlemanly behavior right up until he released her hand, straightened up and grinned at her.

"Finally, a name to go with the face. Like I said, nice to meet you miss Ramona Karsten."

Ramona swallowed; composing herself, she threw him a smirk. "Oh, that was horribly cliché prosecutor Godot."

Godot laughed, placing his hands in his pockets. "I'm glad you like it. I'm afraid I lifted it directly out of a James Bond movie."

"A Sean Connery one I hope. He's the only James Bond I'll ever like. Roger Moore wasn't horrible, but the rest aren't even worth mentioning." She said, pursing her lips.

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way darling." Godot replied in a near perfect imitation of the actors British/Scottish drawl. His voice was actually too deep for him to pull off a perfect rendition. Fancy that.

Ramona grinned, not covering it with her hand this time, and Godot got a glimpse of the girlish dimples she sported on each cheek and her straight, white teeth. She laughed in delight. "Brilliant! Now do John Wayne!"

"Ha…! You are a witty one." Godot walked once again to the coffee pot. "Would you like some coffee Miss Ramona Karsten?"

"You sound like that whip happy VonKarma girl when you use my full name. Just call me Ramona." She grinned then. "Or your highness. You can call me Ramona or your highness, the great Ramona. Either one."

Godot chuckled. "For simple speed factor, I believe I'll stick to Ramona. Now, Ramona, would you like some coffee?"

"Yes please Mr. Godot." She said politely. Then after a moment, she spoke again. "Er, Prosecutor Godot?"

Godot was pouring the coffee in two mugs with his back to her and he smiled, knowing full well what was coming next. "Hmm? Yes Ramona?"

Ramona resisted the urge to fidget, taking a more confident poise, crossing her legs and leaning against the edge of the armrest. "Now, you might not know this, but I'm currently trying to find a generous, charitable, brilliant and handsome prosecutor willing to take me in as a bit of a protégé." Since he'd commented on her wit, she figured she should ask her question in that form.

"Oh, well now! Isn't that interesting? Quite the list of criteria you've got though. Good luck finding someone who fits the bill." Godot said over his shoulder.

Ramona raised her eyebrows. "Yes, right, well I did fall short on my search for a prosecutor just like that. In fact, I couldn't a find a _single _one like that." She said sadly. "But, if there's any chance you're in the market for a beautiful, young assistant…" She left it hanging.

Godot turned to her with a smirk, leaning against the counter with his arms folded. Ramona couldn't help but notice how incredibly fit he looked. His snug, pin strip vest showing ever so slightly a well toned chest and the black bands on his dark green shirt seemed to be constraining against what Ramona felt sure to be well developed upper arms. His dark gray slacks hugged his long legs, stopping just above his Italian leather shoes.

"A beautiful young assistant you say? Is Katie looking for a job then?" He said, his smooth, deep voice conveying his humor.

Ramona glared at him plaintively.

He chuckled. "I'll tell you what Miss Karsten. I'll take you on as a part time assistant, but you have to answer one question correctly for me first."

Ramona sat forward in her seat, uncrossing her legs. She cast anxious eyes on Godot. "Please tell me this is one of those questions were your answer _can't _be wrong."

Godot turned back to the coffee, laughing. "I'm afraid not. There's only one answer that will get you the job."

She huffed out a breath, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "Are you going to ask me out on a date? And I have to say yes to get the job, right?"

Godot laughed. "Actually, I like to avoid sexual harassment suits, thanks all the same." A moment of silence. "Ramona? How do you take your coffee?"

She gazed at him, anxiously waiting for the question that would make or break the rest of her career. "Um, black please. I hate people who have to ruin perfectly good coffee with cream and sugar."

Godot threw his head back and roared with laughter. He turned around and walked back to the couch and, sitting next to Ramona, he handed her one of the mugs. "Looks like you got yourself a job."

She sipped her coffee, furrowing her brow in curiosity. "Not that I'm not over joyous about that, but what about the question?"

He smiled at her. "You just answered it love. Black was definitely the right way to drink your coffee."

She stared at him in astonishment. "That was the question?"

Godot nodded solemnly.

"No way! You're just messing with me! Do you really mean to tell me that if I'd told you to load my coffee up with cream, I wouldn't have gotten the job?" Ramona asked in horror.

He shrugged.

"No way!" She said again. "I think you still would've given me the job."

"Well, you never really know with coffee addicts. The caffeine makes us unpredictable."

She laughed.

Godot glanced at his watch. He stood and retrieved his files. "I'm afraid I've got a trial to attend. You're new job starts tomorrow. Show up at ten sharp...or elevenish….sometime before noon I suppose. Or one. Sometime before one sharp!" He grinned crookedly.

"I like the hours. But, couldn't I sit in on this trial?"

He glanced at her unsurely. "You wouldn't be much help in a case you know nothing about."

"I can make your coffee for you."

"Think you can make it better than the bumbling rookie cop who does it for me now?"

She grinned, flashing her dimples. "Most assuredly."

He laughed. "Alright then, let's go."


	2. Chapter 2:Opening Statements

Godot strode purposefully through the wooden double doors leading into the courtroom, slamming them both open with excessive force as he did so

Godot strode purposefully through the wooden double doors leading into the courtroom, slamming them both open with excessive force as he did so.

Ramona raised her eyebrows, but trailed behind him silently, casting her eyes around the courtroom as she did so. The gallery was jammed full of solemn spectators, the judge was sitting at his bench and the defense had yet to arrive.

Godot stopped behind the prosecutor's bench, leaning forward across it casually. Ramona took her place next to him.

The judge raised his eyebrows. "Oh, it's good to see you early to the trial Mr. Godot."

Godot smirked, sipping his coffee. "The prosecution is always early your honor."

"Uh, no, normally your late…aren't you?" The easily confused judge scratched his head.

Godot shook his head. "No, I'm always early. You're obviously thinking of another attorney."

The judge frowned. "But you--"

"_Always early_ your honor." Godot said forcefully. "You're probably thinking of Mr. Trite."

"Oh. I suppose I am. Well, commendable behavior, always being early. I should reprimand Mr. Trite, er, Mr. Wright on his continual Tardiness."

Godot smiled. "You do that your honor."

Then the judge spied Ramona standing beside him. "Oh ho ho ho! Who do we have here?"

"My new assistant." Godot said shortly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to have a fresh addition to the courtroom miss--?"

"Ramona Karsten your honor." She said in a sweet voice. Godot frowned at her change of tone and turned to look at her. He was surprised to see that in the minute or so since he'd last looked at her, she'd somehow managed to pull her long hair into two piggy tails, making her appear even younger than she was. "It's such a great honor to be in the same room as such a revered judge as yourself! Why, my law professor said we'd be lucky if we even got to see you, and her I am, being blessed enough to watch you handle your proceedings." She said in a breathless, awe inspired voice. And then Godot was even more shocked to see her dip into a graceful curtsy. It was a perfect curtsy, even though she was only wearing blue jeans and a tight, black polo.

The judge was also surprised, his face showing as much, but then he broke into a wide grin. "Ho ho ho ho! Well aren't you just cute as a bug's ear! You say your professor speaks highly of me?"

Ramona nodded; her big, blue eyes wide with sincerity and feeling. "Oh _yes _your honor! He tells all of us on a daily basis that we could only _hope_ to have a _fraction_ of the sense of justice you display!"

Godot covered his open mouth with his hand, glancing quickly at the judge who was actually blushing. He spoke to Ramona from behind his hand. "For the love of coffee, Ramona, please tell me you're faking this."

Ramona was grinning wide enough to show all of her straight teeth and her dimples shown shamelessly. She spoke out of the corner of her mouth, barely moving her lips. "I have no clue who this judge is, Mr. Godot. Never heard of him in my life. However, I am in several drama classes currently. I had you buying it too, didn't I?"

"Ha…! I'm beginning to feel even better about my decision."

The judge was still smiling happily at his new 'admirer'. "Well, young lady, it sounds--" Whatever the judge had been about to say was cut short buy the arrival of the defense.

He was a small, wiry man in a white button up shirt and ill fitting black trousers. He had a mop of red hair lacking in any form of style and thick, wire rimmed glasses. His features were slightly pointed like a rat. He took his place at the defense's bench, placing his overly flashy brief case on the table.

Ramona frowned slightly, not recognizing him. "Who's he?" She whispered to Godot.

Godot smiled at the mans entrance. "That would be one Edgar Zachariah Out. We'll have no problem with him."

Out spoke in a high pitched voice. "The defense is--"

The judge was glaring down at him angrily and he interrupted him. "Mr. Out, I'm in the middle of a conversation! Show respect in my courtroom or I will penalize you!" He glowered at him a moment longer and then turned back to Ramona, his smile back in place. "As I was saying Miss Ka--"

"But your honor! It's time to start the trial!" The defense attorney shouted, angry at being brushed off. As much as he appeared to be lacking in common sense, at least Out seemed to be blessed with good reflexes. If the speed with which he dropped behind his bench to avoid the projectile coffee mug flying at him was any way to judge, that is.

The ceramic cup hit the wall behind him, showering coffee and broken pieces all over his head and shoulders.

"Shut it, Out!" Godot barked, his arm still extended from his throw. "The judge is in the middle of a conversation! Show respect in his courtroom or _I _will penalize you!" He emphasized by slamming his fist on the table, causing Ramona to jump slightly.

The defense attorney pulled himself to his feet, looking frightened. "Objection." He said weakly.

"Overruled!" The judge said sternly. "Thank you Mr. Godot. Very commendable."

Godot grinned wolfishly at Out, who already looked as if he was going to cry.

"So, Miss Karsten," The judge continued as if nothing had happened. "I would very much like to know the name of this professor who so reveres me." He chuckled. "I do believe I'll give him an honorable mention or two in my next thesis."

"Professor Johnson," Godot whispered helpfully, realizing that she wasn't going to have a name for her fictional professor. "Lexington, Schmitt, Fink."

Ramona blushed and giggled girlishly. "Uh, well sir, I'm just so twitterpated at actually meeting you that his name seems to have completely slipped my mind." More dimples. "I barely remembered my own name your honor."

The judge chuckled. "Twitterpated, you say?"

Smiling, Ramona curtsied again.

"What a lovely young lady." The judge said.

"Um, excuse me your honor, but could we please start the trial?" Out asked nervously, flinching when Godot shifted his weight slightly.

The judge directed a dark look at the cowering lawyer. "Yes, I suppose we can begin. But let it be said that you are not earning the defense any favors by attempting to rush things."

"But I'm not rushing things! It's five minutes past the designated time." Out defended, extracting an over sized gold pocket watch from his briefcase.

"Patience is a virtue, Out." Godot reprimanded with a frown, holding one finger up to his forehead.

Out glared angrily across the room at the prosecutor's bench. As if on cue, Ramona adopted a scared look, causing the judge to gasp angrily.

"Mr. Out! Do refrain from intimidating young women in my court room!"

"I wasn't, but it, I was glaring at--"

"You're walking on thin ice Mr. Out. Please control yourself." The judge said angrily.

Ramona covered her laugh with a hand to her mouth. She glanced up at Godot, expecting to see one of his many different smiles, but was instead met with an odd, solemn frown.

Godot had thought Ramona's little act had been humorous when she'd gotten the judge so easily wrapped around her finger, but just then when she'd used it to make the defense look bad he had been reminded far too much of another girl, in another trial in another world. In no way did he think Ramona was at all like _her_, but that trick she'd just used was much too familiar. He forced a smile and looked over at her. "Alright, you should probably lay off a little."

She caught the off tone with which he said this, and she immediately dropped the façade. "Oh, I'm really sorry Mr. Godot," She apologized, pulling the hair ties out of her hair and shaking her head to send the thick mane tumbling across her shoulders. "I get carried away sometimes. I'm sorry."

"That's okay Ramona. No harm done. In fact, you really set the defense on its toes. Good job."

She, too, forced a smile. "Thanks. Do you want to tell me where to go to make your coffee? I wouldn't want you to suffer from caffeine withdrawals."

Godot smiled sincerely now. "That's a good work ethic you've got. I like that. That small door directly behind us leads straight into the prosecutors lounge. You should be familiar enough with that room by now, I hear you spend a lot of time in there trying to get dates." He teased, setting a lighter mood.

Her eyes sparkled. "Very funny. Do you want me to go now?"

He shook his head. "No, wait until the opening statements are over. Then go."

She nodded and then frowned slightly. "Wait, if that door leads straight into the prosecutor's lounge, then why'd we come in through the main doors?"

"Ha…! I always like to make a big entrance."

"I guess I should have known."

"Okay, let's hear your opening statements and then get started." The judge said.

Mr. Out puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips, trying to look more impressive. "It is the defenses belief that the charges placed against Mr. Wine are heinous fabrications and I intend to prove, without a doubt, his innocence."

The judge nodded. "Very good. Mr. Godot?"

Godot straightened up, taking a deep breath. He rested his index finger against the top rim of his visor, looking thoughtful. Ramona prepared herself to finally hear a bit of his genius.

Finally, he spoke. "The cop's guilty; prosecution's going to prove it…" He looked up at the judge and smirked. "That's all."

The judge nodded again as if this kind of opening statement from the prosecution was normal.

Godot turned to the frowning Ramona. "What's wrong? Not what you expected?" He smirked at her, too.

She laughed quietly. "No, not really. I guess I need to stop expecting _anything_ from you though. I think you're right about the caffeine making you unpredictable."

He grinned at her crookedly. "Speaking of which…"

"Oh, right. The coffee. Sorry." She turned to go, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Oh, and Ramona?"

"Um, yes? What is it?"

He smiled. "Hurry back, you don't want to miss this."

The door clicked shut behind her.

Out cleared his throat. "Your honor, the defense would like to establish at this time that the defendant has a solid alibi for the time of the murder."

"Ah, yes, the poker party he was at. Are there any witnesses that saw him at this party?" The judge questioned.

Out gave a smarmy smile. "Yes, in fact I would like to call him to testify right now your honor."

"The prosecution has no objections." Godot said, smiling at Out. "This should be amusing."

"Alright then, I suppose lets bring him in."

A handsome, tall man who appeared to be somewhere in his mid twenties was escorted to the witness stand by the bailiff. He wore a plaid button up shirt with a pack of either cigarettes or cards tucked into one of the rolled up sleeves. He had a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his head, blending in with his wavy, black hair. He grinned with all his perfectly white, straight teeth wide enough that you could even see his molars.

"Witness, please state your name and occupation." Out told him.

He grinned wider. "Why, I'd be loving to tell y'all. The name's Benjamin Lion, the job's a lumber jack."

"Yes, lumber jack, excellent." Mr. Out was still smiling widely, obviously he felt he had quite the surprise up his sleeve. "Now, would you please tell the court how you knew the defendant, Mr. Ian S. Wine?"

"Sure! Ya see, my pa and his pa were friends way back when. We's known each other sense we were in diapers!"

"Now, would you please tell the court what--"

"Ha…! It's good to see you bringing in objective, impartial witnesses, Out." Godot interrupted. "Someone who's known the defendant his entire life would have _no_ reason to lie to cover for him, would they?"

Out turned slightly pale. "Objection! That's pure assumption!"

"Objection sustained. We will hear the witness out." The judge said.

Mr. Out gave Godot a smug look. "As I was saying, Mr. Lion, will you please tell us what your friend Mr. Wine was doing night before last around nine o'clock?"

The witness removed the package of cards from his sleeve and began playing idly with them, bridging them and shuffling them. "Funny ya should ask 'bout that particular time. See, right around 8:45 or so, Ian won the biggest pot of the whole night! To commemorate the event, we done took a snapshot of it!"

"A snapshot? Do you have any proof of the time it was taken?" The judge asked curiously, not at all bothered by the fact that this bit of evidence hadn't been officially announced beforehand, which was the common procedure.

Lion smiled like a shark. "Why, funny thing. See, this here is the picture," He tossed a Polaroid up to the judge. "And if you'll look closely, in the background there's my TV. Ya see, we took that there picture during the evening news. Why, you can even see the clock behind that good lookin' reporter. 8:45 on the dot."

The judge examined the picture with surprise. "Well, what do you know! That is the evening news!"

"May I see the picture, your honor?" Godot asked simply.

"Certainly!" The judge handed the snapshot to the bailiff, who delivered it to Godot.

One glance at the picture, and Godot was grinning again.

"What does the prosecution think about this new evidence?" The judge asked.

Godot leaned casually on his desk. "When you make a pot of coffee, if you put a great amount of water in the machine and not enough coffee grounds, what do you get?"

The judge blinked. "Um, I fail to see the relevancy of this question, but I suppose you get watered down coffee…right?"

Godot smirked. "Exactly your honor. And that's all this evidence is. Watered down and bland!"

Out drew back in momentary shock, Lion's eyes went wide and his teeth clenched. Then they both composed themselves. "I'd like to see you prove that it's a fake, Mr. Godot." Out said, trying to force a confident smile. It only ended up making him look slightly sick.

"I'll do just that Out." Godot turned his head to the side. "Right after I get my coffee, that is."


End file.
